


Tell The Truth

by Yahong



Category: Dragon's Bait - Vivian Vande Velde
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 20:10:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1239274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yahong/pseuds/Yahong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The end of Dragon's Bait, rewritten from Selendrile's point of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell The Truth

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little bit of romanticizing of Selendrile. :) All dialogue taken directly from the novel.

It was twelve hours until Selendrile remembered Alys.

Well, no one could blame him for rejoicing in the extension of his life, could they? The death which had seemed so imminent only a half-day ago was banished, the demise he’d been prepared for now gone, and all he wanted to do was fly as far and fast as he could into the endless sky.

But Alys. She had said something about a partnership with Gower. The man who had originally pinned the witch label on her.

Selendrile had really been looking forward to shaming him the most. Yet somehow Alys had secured the man’s cooperation to free him.

He wasn’t sure how human contracts worked, but usually that meant a trade of some sort. And he couldn’t see a trade between the two of them being anything but hostile.

The thought that she’d done it for him made him feel… lightheaded.

No, that was simply the layer of atmosphere he was in.

It wouldn’t hurt to go back to Saint Toby’s and check, though. That was all he would do. And then he’d leave. _Because_ , his mind pointed out, _you’re a dragon. She’s a human_.

That was a good thing to be reminding himself of. Well. Not good. But important.

Selendrile turned 180 degrees and began flying back the way he came. He passed unfamiliar forests, unknown towns, and wondered exactly how far he’d flown in his euphoria. Wondered exactly how long it’d take to return to Alys’s town.

The sun was beginning to sink when he finally came upon Saint Toby’s again, and in the distance he could see some massing of people.

An exorcism takes place at sundown, he remembered Alys saying.

Another memory of a sundown: a miniscule white dot on the plains below, throwing rocks at him.

The crowds became clearer. So did the blazing torches they held, the cries reaching his ears, the tight circle they formed around a white figure.

His blood pounded.

Selendrile wasn’t aware of the screams that rose into the air or the chaos that spread like a flood as he dived. His pulse was roaring in his ears, his vision was narrowed and he flew only for Alys, for the girl who was about to be burned alive at the stake.

His left talons hit the stake instead of her, and his acute hearing caught the gasp of breath forced from her as it tumbled on top of her. Panic warred with fury, and the second time he aimed more carefully. He seized Alys’s forearms and lifted her clear, almost gasping himself in relief.

The panic was gone; the fury remained.

Selendrile roared at the villagers. All cowards, fleeing as though they could outrun him and all the justice they deserved for tying Alys up and daring to think about burning her. He swooped along the village streets, demonstrated just how lucky they were not to be incinerated, then turned to find Gower.

The man was fumbling along toward that tin shop of Alys’s, the one that’d caused her voice to bend and bow under the pain of finding it no longer her own. Well, Gower wouldn’t have it either. Selendrile spit flame, and the shop went up. Gower quailed into a lump on the ground.

Satisfied, Selendrile beat his wings twice and took off in a now-familiar direction, finding his way toward the haystack which he could drop Alys on without, hopefully, hurting her.

He let her go and slid through his transformation from dragon to human without giving it a second thought. She was just staggering to an upright position when he landed beside her.

She couldn’t be hurt. He didn’t know what he’d do if she was hurt. That was a possibility his mind shied away from.

Selendrile grabbed her by the shoulders and peered at her, wondering how he would tell whether Alys was all right. She looked back, blinking, and he saw with tremendous relief that that her expression was alert, that her eyes were attentive.

She spoke. “Thank you for rescuing me.”

He kept his breathing even. Kept it calm over the joy, self-hatred and tenderness roiling inside him.

It took him a moment before he could make his hands let go of her shoulders.

Somehow he found words that wouldn’t give him away. “You’re welcome.”

Alys didn’t say anything more, but turned away to regard the starless sky.

He needed her to say something. “So… does this mean no more revenge?

“No more revenge.”

Finally she looked at him. He looked back.

“I didn’t like it,” she said. “I felt worse after than before. And I’m very, very sorry Atherton died.”

Selendrile wasn’t. He’d happily kill him again, and any other person who wanted to do any harm to Alys.

He kept this silent too. He wasn’t sure what it meant.

“I assume it works out better for you,” she asked, “when you get revenge on those who hurt you?”

He was positive his expression gave away the cold fury he felt toward anyone hurting Alys, and the pleasure he would derive from seeking revenge on them. But really, these emotions couldn’t signify anything good. He sighed and shook his head at himself. Time to change the subject. “Do you want to go back?” If she wanted to, he would take her. And he hoped she didn’t mind if he burned down Gower’s house, too.

“No. They’ll never be able to forgive me.” Alys looked regretful, and he could only be amused at the thought that she would want any of those people’s forgiveness.

“Then is there some other place you’d like me to take you?”

She sighed. “There were several kind people in Griswold who were willing to take me on. I may go back there.” She sighed again, and he wished she wouldn’t. The sound was doing odd things to his feelings. “Or, I could find a new place entirely. I don’t think that’s as impossible as I used to think it was.”

“Ah.” Yes. She could move on. He was positive she would be able to, if she wanted to.

Alys rested her head against her knees. In that moment of vulnerability, Selendrile gathered up his courage and said:

“Or you could stay with me.”

He couldn’t look her in the face as he said. He wasn’t sure why.

In his peripheral vision he caught the startled movement from Alys. The wait stretched. And then an unexpected question, typical of her: “Do you mean it?”

Selendrile hesitated. Looked up at her. Wished he knew what kind of answer she wanted. “Perhaps,” he said.

“I see,” Alys answered.

Vague. But his own response had been vague.

So maybe he needed to tell the truth for her to tell the truth.

He sucked in a breath. “Yes.” He said it quickly and decisively. “Yes, I do mean it.”

Her response was prompt. “Well, then,” she said, “in that case, I will.”

Happiness exploded in his gut.

As usual, his mind checked in: _You’re a dragon. She’s a human._

This time, his heart silenced it.


End file.
